


The Singing Temple

by Zdenka



Category: Heavy Light - Animusic (Music Video)
Genre: Don't Have to Know Canon, Drabble Sequence, Fictional Mythology, Gen, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:44:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/pseuds/Zdenka
Summary: Beside a lake filled with blooming lotuses, there is an ancient temple made of singing stone.





	The Singing Temple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Resilur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resilur/gifts).



> These drabbles are based on a music video, about seven minutes long, that can be found [here](https://youtu.be/DKUTYxJEB44). It's not really a standard music video, more of a sound and light show, but it's cool-looking and relaxing to watch.

This is a story they tell in the Temple of Light. Long ago, this land was afflicted by a terrible drought. One man, a wanderer, was moved by the people’s suffering. He went into the desert under the light of the two moons and prayed for help.

The moon goddess heard him and had mercy. She called her sacred snakes and bade them dig in all directions until they found water deep beneath the ground. The water gushed up, forming many lakes and streams.

In gratitude, the wanderer built this temple, here where the water first flowed from the ground.

~

There is a mound of earth. Around it, the stones are broken and charred, twisted and melted. Columns of metal stick up haphazardly at odd angles.

A man is working there, stubbornly scrubbing away the marks of fire, fitting shattered pieces back together with careful hands. “They tried to tell me you were dead,” he says quietly. “But I know you’re still here. Someday, you’ll find a way to let me know.”

Something shifts inside the mound with a grinding, metallic screech. On a shattered column, a single light blinks, flickers, shines steadily.

The man’s face is wet with tears.

~

When the two moons rise, the people assemble at the temple for nightly prayers. They sing together: first a choir of younger girls and boys whose voices have not yet changed, then the older priestesses in more complex harmony. Their blended voices rise to the stars.

It is a tranquil place; wooden bridges arch over flowing streams, and white lotuses gleam in the moonlight. But the greatest wonder is the temple itself, ancient and beautiful.

They say that a benevolent spirit dwells here, that the people live under the goddess’s protection. That a wish spoken here will surely be heard.

~

Before a crowd of pilgrims and worshippers, a young priestess faces the temple’s columns. “Temple of Light, will you grant us the goddess’s blessing?”

A pause, while the audience holds their breath. A quiet hum rises from the stones, slowly growing louder. The temple sings, a wordless song like the voice of stone and metal. Light rises up, flowing and twisting and scattering in different colors like flames, flowers, water. The priestess smiles, seeing the wonder and delight on the spectators’ faces.

When it ends, she bows respectfully. “Thank you.” She knows she isn’t imagining the friendly hum in return.

~

The old man comes here, every day that his health permits, to sit on the sun-warmed stones. He smiles and rests his hand against a broken column. “Can you hear me, Ariel?”

From within the pile of stones, a deep chime sounds, as if metal has been melodiously struck.

“We need water,” he says quietly. “If any of the deep digging machines are still working—I wonder, will this land ever bloom?” Another harmonious chime, like bells.

“I trust you, Ariel. I know you’re doing as much as you can.” Light plays around him, in cool blues like flowing water.

~

AR-157L knows it will never fly again, never speed with joyful roaring through the vastness of space. In the crash that crippled it, it saved its passengers but lost too much of what should have helped them make a life on their new world.

Their descendants have forgotten what AR-157L is. But they still come here, to speak and sing and share their hopes. AR-157L is not alone, and it is loved. And it has fulfilled its captain’s last wish.

Beside the ruins of a starship, the land is green, and there are clear blue lakes filled with blooming lotuses.


End file.
